


Panicked

by Prettyyoungtragedy



Series: Panicked, Perturbed, Powerful [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, F/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 17:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14218572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyyoungtragedy/pseuds/Prettyyoungtragedy
Summary: Anxiety isn’t something you can go through alone no matter how much you force yourself to atone for your sins. Steve Rogers, God’s righteous man, steps in to bring you down from the ledge of insanity and reality that you’re dangerously dancing on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s angsty and written with IW Steve Rogers in mind (as usual). Idk if it reads okay, so I would love some feedback, :) drop me some in my ask box or not. Either way I’ll still write lol. I know I haven't posted on here in a whiiilllee! But I promise to my usual reader who know "You and I, just the two of us" There will be a new chapter today or tomorrow! I went on a little hiatus! Sorry guys!

You adjust your stance in front of the punching bag, roll your shoulders. Sweat dripping down the side of your face. Hair sweaty and sticking to your face, shoulders, neck. You’re focused, controlled, determined. You have to clear your mind, that is your goal, get through this damn night without a panic attack. The music blaring from the speakers distracts you temporarily, its loud and deep 

Then you smash your fist into the sandbag, again and again, harder each time. Your hands wrapped in simple boxing wraps, not enough to protect your knuckles from the impact of the bags designed to withstand the force of the super soldiers in the building beating on it. 

Again, again, again. It's a rhythm, its therapy, its calming. Your heart beat starts racing, it’s banging in your chest, your breaths coming out in short bursts. You don’t stop, you can’t stop, the images flash in your mind, and you feel your panic rise. You move faster against the sandbag, harder, angrier. 

There’s blood on the bag, but you don’t stop. The skin on your knuckles split, oozing thick red blood onto the bag, onto the gauze on your hands, but you don’t stop. The pain is a distraction, it’s a welcomed pain, it’s a feeling you need to ground you in this moment, to bring you back from the edge you’re dangerously dancing on. 

Suddenly a pair of strong hands grip your arms, and pull you back from the bag, startling you. 

“The fuck…” You gasped trying to shove whoever it was off. 

“Y/N. Stop.” Steve’s voice instructed. 

“What the fuck Cap, you scared me.” You exclaim angrily shoving him away from you. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked frowning at you. 

“What the fuck does it look like?” You shot back. 

“You’re hurting yourself.” Steve said. 

“Leave me alone.” You snapped. You could feel the panic rising, you needed to hit something again. You had to, the images are about to come rushing back. So you turn away swiftly from him and move back to the bag. Your back facing Steve again and start hitting the bag again. 

“Y/N, stop.” He repeated grabbing your arm as you were about to throw another punch at the bag. 

Steve yanks you away from the bag, and you stumbled tripping on your own feet and fell onto your hands and knees as Steve tries to catch you. His face is plastered in a frown and there’s a grimace on it when you look up at him, he bends down and offers you a hand to pull you to your feet. 

You hit his hand away and push yourself off the ground and onto your feet. “Steve” You said through gritted teeth, “Leave me the fuck alone.” 

“No.’ Came his defiant response. He stood in front of you, arms crossed over his hulking chest, frowning at you. You make an exasperated noise and then began to violently rip off the wraps around your hands and make your way to one of the benches nearby, you take a seat. Your heart is racing. 

“Talk to me?” Steve says softly. He drops to his knees before you, and places a hand on your knee. 

“Go away Steve.” You sighed, shoving his hand off you. You don’t want to be touched, you don’t want to be around him, you just want to be left alone. Why can’t he understand that. “Please?” You added, pointedly not looking at him as the PTSD took over again.

Steve sighs, he notices the panic almost radiating off you. He shakes his head, he won’t leave you because he knows this, he’s seen Bucky go through this. And he was helpless then, he won't be helpless now. Steve stands up suddenly and begins to walk away. You look up at his retreating frame, and then close your eyes. 

The moment you do, your mind floods with the images again. And you clutch your head almost whimpering from the terror that rips through you. No one understands it, how could they? They haven’t gone through what you have. Or they have and they are experts at hiding it. All the Avengers, are experts at hiding it at this point. Some better than others. 

You had always been a master of the facade but you were cracking, you did the dirty work for the Avengers and had never complained. Fury knew you could handle it, your will was made of marble and stone. But it had started with the moment back in Bucharest, the mission was simple. Sanction and extract. You could handle it, or so you thought so. 

From the moment that mission went awry, your facade slowly began to splinter, cracking bit by bit. You shoved the PTSD down, again and again. You woke up shaking and crying, some nights were worse than others. Sleep paralysis, nightmares that left your gasping for air and fighting your own mind. The crushing weight of your life had sudden began to weigh on your conscience more than you knew it. 

Every face, every scream, ever deed you had committed in the name of good and bad, haunted you like a shadow that stayed with you long after the lights had been turned off. 

You feel his hands on the sides of your face. You want to open your eyes but you can’t. You’re trapped in that moment. “Come back Y/N.” Steve’s voice whispers to you. “Open your eyes.” 

His voice. It’s like an anchor, suddenly pulling your from the darkness. He grips your face tighter, and you can feel Steve’s body close to yours. You want to move, to touch him, to just feel the human contact, it will help but you can’t. You’re paralyzed. 

“I can’t” You whispered. 

“Open your eyes and look at me.” He repeats, his voice firmer this time. 

You force your eyes open and you’re met with an intense stare from his blue eyes. Suddenly calm washes over you, staring at him. His eyes ground you, the comfort of strength and compassion in them grounds you. Steve doesn’t say anything he just looks at you, holding your face in his hands. He doesn’t have to say anything, his presence is calming enough all of a sudden. 

“You’re okay.” He says firmly. 

And you nod. 

“Say it.” Steve instructs you. 

“I’m okay.” You murmured, feeling your heart rate slow down. 

Steve gives you a soft smile, and then pulls you into an embrace, enveloping you in his muscular body and the warmth from it. Neither of you move for a moment, you keep your eyes open, scared if you close them of the visions will plague you. 

Steve pulls back and looks down at your knuckles that are still bleeding, and he brushes his fingers lightly across the bloodied mess. “Pain is a temporary distraction.” He murmurs, “You need to talk Y/N.” 

You look up at him, grateful for him helping you off the ledge you had put yourself on but you knew you would never be able to talk about it. Talking about it would make the atrocities all to real, it would manifest them into someone else's realities and there would be more than just you hating yourself. And Steve for all his goodness and kindness would never look at you the same way again, there was that warmth you felt for him in your heart but it was a pipedream.   
So you shut that door inside you again, and pull away from Steve, standing up. 

“Thank you Cap,” You muttered, Steve looks at you with a confused look on his face. He doesn't understand if he said something wrong or not. He hope you would open up to him but you’re suddenly shutting down again. 

“Y/N…” Steve begins to say. 

But you don’t let him finish, you quickly whirl around and stalk away. You wouldn’t open the door, not today, not ever. It was a door too painful to let anything through.


	2. Perturbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety isn’t something you can go through alone no matter how much you force yourself to atone for your sins. Steve Rogers, God’s righteous man, steps in to bring you down from the ledge of insanity and reality that you’re dangerously dancing on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2, its a little drabble! It's a 3 part series, It's all angsty and sad! but I promise there's a good ending! I have been on a little bit of a writing binge lately so be prepared for A LOT of works from me! lol
> 
> Yay! please leave be feedback, i love hearing from you guys!

The crack and bang of the lightning and thunder echoed across the compound. Its raining torrents outside, the clouds blanket the sky creating a dark shadow across everything. You stood near the massive wall to roof window, gazing out at the beauty and grace that was the rain, every flash of the lightning, illuminating the compound yard for a second before flashing back into darkness. It was oddly calming, even with the chaos the rain brought. 

It was one of those nights, a rare night where you weren’t alone. Nearby Tony sat on the couch, sipping on expensive oaky whiskey, he was having a quiet conversation with Bruce. You had been half paying attention to what they were talking about, catching only bits of the conversation every few minutes. You should have been paying attention but your mind was beginning to wander, that was never a good thing. 

Steve and Bucky stroll through the glass doors a few moments later, you don’t notice. You are still lost in your thoughts, staring blankly out the window. Bucky watches you for a moment, You still don’t see him, your mind is trapping you in that mindless state as you jump from memory to memory. 

There’s flashes of painful memories, there’s no color in them to you. It’s dark and listless, a state of mind that is draining. You are on that damned ledge again, somehow you had managed to walk yourself right up there again, unwittingly. 

It’s like your finger is always on that trigger, a loaded gun to your temple. Seconds away from pulling it at all times. You don’t know what is going to be that final thing that is going to snap that trigger and release the bullet from its chamber. But your mind loves dancing on the edge of that line, just beyond sanity and into the darkness that pulls you. It’s like some form of sick torture you have devised for your own sins. A torturous mind game you have created for yourself. 

Is it just that you wanted to pull the trigger? Or because you had no control over it anymore. You walked the line tonight, no different than any other night. Memories flash again, always changing, screams, shouts, blood, visions of death you had created. Taking lives you deemed unworthy. The worst part is you were in control, you made those conscious decisions. 

Bucky is watching you, reading your body language, your motionless state scares him. And he is the winter soldier, nothing should scare him. Bucky nudges Steve and motions with his head towards where you stood, Steve’s gaze follows Bucky’s, coming to rest upon your petite frame at the window. 

Steve walks over to where you are stood, and gently touches your shoulder. “Y/N?” He said softly. 

The touch to your skin startles you out of your mind and you jumped back, almost crashing into the nearby couch. You sudden reaction startles the rest of the occupants in the room as you fall into an attack stance. They all stare at you, as you quickly try to recover from your reaction. 

“Fuck,” You muttered as you straightened up. All eyes on you now, staring, concerned. “Sorry you startled me.” You Said.

But Steve knew, you could see in his eyes he knew what was going on inside that head of yours. And when you glanced at Tony he had the most understanding look on his face that it actually terrified you. 

No one said anything when you quickly excused yourself and ran to your bedroom. Slamming the door behind you. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, soundproof.” You gasped. She doesn't respond, the U.I even knows. There’s a soft sound and the room shifts. You dropped to your knees and are gasping , clawing at the clothes you’re wearing. There’s too many of them, you can’t breathe, ripping off your shirt. 

But you still can’t breath, you’re still fighting with yourself. It’s a losing battle, you can feel it. It’s been too many nights like this. Too many nights of the same dance, you and your mind fighting. You scratch at your wrists, you have to find your pulse, it helps your panic. But you can’t find it in your state. You’re too far gone, your mind flashes to moments ago when Steve touched you and that’s it, the trigger. 

It’s the skin to skin contact that triggers it and before you know it, you fall from that ledge. You fall ungracefully and almost violently as that band that holds you mind together snaps and you feel yourself free falling through the cusp of insanity and reality. 

You fall onto all fours, and cried out. Tears falling from your eyes onto the carpet, blurring your vision, Your head swims, its anxious, crowded, screaming. You have to save yourself, no one is going to do it for you. 

Suddenly Steve is beside you, he grabs your arms and tries to hold you but you shove him away. “Don’t touch me.” You snarled. Surprise flits across his face at your aggression and he reaches for you again. 

“Y/N. let me help you.” He said quietly. 

You block him out, and squeeze your eyes shut. Your finger is on that trigger again, squeezing. Urging you to pull it, to fall from sanity. 

Steve reaches for you again, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into his arms. He holds your back to his chest and you struggle against his grip.

“Let go.” You gasped angrily, twisting every which way. You couldn’t breathe in his arms, you had to get away. He wasn’t going to help, you wouldn’t let him. You couldn't. 

Steve doesn't say anything, he just holds on to you as you fight him. The stronger his grip gets the more you feel your resolve to get away from his dissipate. Until you are fighting back hot angry tears, you screamed and tried to get away from him before you broke down in his arms but he doesn't relent. He just holds you closer. 

Until you can’t fight it anymore and your legs buckled. Steve catches you, and picks you put in his arms. Still saying nothing he moves to the bed clutching you to his chest. Your mind i all over the place, and you break down in his arms. You can’t hold back the torrent of tears that come flooding forward. He lays down on the bed with you, holding you close to him, surrounded by his arms you suddenly feel safety. For the first time in a long time, you let go and free fall through your emotions and Steve says nothing. He holds you and understands because he knows, Steve Rogers of all people knows what it’s like to have no one to catch you when you fall.


End file.
